


The One That Explains Dalton

by jewelianna88



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6876166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelianna88/pseuds/jewelianna88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was originally part of a "5 Things You Don't Know about Blaine Anderson" that never got past part one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One That Explains Dalton

5 things you don’t know about Blaine’s parents.

 

#1: They’re not rich

Blaine remembers the day Cooper decided to drop out of college and try acting. It was his third week of second grade, and he’d gotten to be the line leader on the way to lunch for the first time. He raced off the bus at the end of the day, backpack hanging off of his shoulder, bursting with pride to tell his mom, who almost always had chocolate chip cookies as a snack on Tuesdays.

He kicked off his shoes in the mudroom, slowing down as he heard voices in the kitchen. Peaking around the corner, he saw Cooper sitting at the table, long legs splayed out halfway across the room. Blaine was sort of short, and Cooper always seemed SO TALL.

Cooper was a little scary sometimes, and Blaine felt pretty bad that he’d enjoyed life a lot more since he’d gone away to college. Cooper was intense, and he fought with his parents all the time. There was a lot of yelling, and Blaine’s mom often had that little wrinkle between her eyebrows.

“Cooper, you’ve only been there a month. That’s hardly enough time to say it’s not for you.” His mom was holding a diet soda and leaning against the sink.

Cooper leaned forward on the table, not noticing that Blaine had crept into the room. “Mom, I’m already 18. I’m already years behind. I need to get my name out there or I’ll never make it. I’ve already decided, I’m going to LA. I just want your blessing.”

She fiddled with the tab on the can as she spoke. “What about transferring to a school out there? I just can’t condone you giving up on your education completely.” She looked over then, and noticed Blaine standing in the doorway. “Hey, baby, I didn’t hear you come in! Look who’s here!”

“Hi Cooper.” Blaine shuffled into the room and hopped up onto the counter to sit beside his mom. She only let him do that when Dad wasn’t home. “I got to be line leader at lunch so I got to pick out the best piece of pizza. It was awesome.”

“You gotta watch that grease, B. Pretty soon it’s going to make you break out. You complexion is your greatest asset, you can’t afford to have zits.”

Blaine looked over at his mom, who sighed and put down her soda can, turning her back to Cooper and rolling her eyes at Blaine, making him laugh. “Cooper he’s eight. Relax.” 

“I’m just saying…” He trailed off, leaning back in his chair. 

“We’ll continue this discussion when your father gets home.” Turning to Blaine, she smiled.  
“I didn’t have time to make cookies today, honey. How about some grapes and pretzels?”

Blaine shrugged, then jumped off the counter. “Whatever. Is Cooper staying long?”

“I’m not sure.” She glanced at her older son, who had enough sense to keep quiet.

Three days later, Cooper was gone, not back to college, but to Los Angeles to be an actor. His father frowned when he drove off in the old Corolla, packed with all of his stuff. 

**

Seven years later, Blaine lay in bed, groggy from the medications, lulled into a trance by the constant beep of the machines. His parents talked quietly from the chairs beside his bed. 

“We can’t send him back there,” his mom insisted firmly. She looked older, like she’d aged ten years in the ten days Blaine had been in the hospital after the attack. 

“Well not right now. But if he’s not going to school there, what are we going to do, move?” His father’s voice was back to the firm coolness of usually. It had scared Blaine how wavery it had been.

“There are private schools. That boy from church goes to St. Xavier’s.” 

“He just got bashed for being gay, Pam, we can’t send him to a Catholic school.” His father sighed, and the chair squeaked so Blaine imagined him leaning back. “I guess there’s Cooper’s college money. We could look around and some private schools.”

“I thought we were rolling that into our retirement,” his mom replied. He felt her take his hand in hers, the warm weight comforting as he drifted back to sleep. 

“This is more important,” was the last thing he heard before the world went quiet again.


End file.
